


remember me as I was (not as I am)

by komhmagnus



Series: inspired by 3b [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Coda, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s03e11 Lost Souls, Hopeful Ending, Insecure Magnus Bane, M/M, POV Magnus Bane, Sad Magnus Bane, Spoilers, Supportive Alec Lightwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 14:59:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17941898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/komhmagnus/pseuds/komhmagnus
Summary: He thought it would hurt, when his father took his magic. He thought it would feel like a limb being torn from his body, or blood pouring from wounds inflicted in battle, or being skinned alive until he was nothing but muscle and blood and bone.He never expected to feel nothing at all.





	remember me as I was (not as I am)

**Author's Note:**

> ***Contains 3x11 spoilers***
> 
> Title is from Rat A Tat by Fall Out Boy feat. Courtney Love

_ I don’t know who I am anymore _ .

Magnus wants to scream it, wants to feel the words tear through the quiet of the loft and shatter the white noise of the city into millions of irreparable pieces. The thought has been a constant fear, a steady slice, tormenting him since he returned from Edom without his magic.

He thought it would hurt, when his father took his magic. He thought it would feel like a limb being torn from his body, or blood pouring from wounds inflicted in battle, or being skinned alive until he was nothing but muscle and blood and bone.

He never expected to feel nothing at all.

_ That’s what I am now _ , he thinks bitterly.  _ Nothing _ .

No thrum of magic just beneath his skin, comforting and reassuring as an old friend. No insistent buzz waiting to be let loose in a show of power. No red, angry sparks ready to attack his enemies and protect those he loves.

Magnus has survived centuries, has led countless lives, but none have ever been like  _ this _ . Never has Magnus felt so utterly lost and useless.

“I can’t protect Madzie, let alone give her a nightlight,” he mutters angrily to himself. He’s been sitting on the floor in the apothecary for who knows how long, hiding away as soon as Catarina had collected Madzie and taken her to the High Warlock of Estonia’s protection.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Magnus jumps at the voice, though really he should’ve expected Alec to come looking for him sooner or later. He’s standing in the doorway, brow furrowed in a way that would be adorable if the underlying concern there didn’t make Magnus’s heart ache.

“Sorry,” Alec frowns. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. If you want to be alone, I’ll—”

“No, it’s alright, Alexander,” Magnus says, tapping the floor next to him lightly in invitation. Alec takes it immediately, resting his hand on the ground next to Magnus’s, palm up. Magnus stares at it for a minute before curling his own around Alec’s, their fingers weaving together.

They sit in silence, the weight of the evening and everything left unsaid settling over them both.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Alec says, his voice low and quiet and steady. “None of this is.”

“I couldn’t protect her, Alexander,” Magnus says, and he winces when the words come out sharper than he meant them. Alec doesn’t flinch, though. Instead, his thumb ghosts up and down Magnus’s, the motion grounding. Magnus breathes for a moment, closing his eyes. “I tried to stop Iris, but I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t stop her.” The words are defeated and Magnus wants to laugh. If only Asmodeus could see him now:  the great Magnus Bane, former High Warlock of Brooklyn, the defiant son he so desperately wanted to control,  _ defeated _ .

He supposes that was his father’s point in all this, in claiming the one thing that’s always been a part of him. The one thing he’s learned to trust more than he’s trusted people, in most cases.

“You did, though,” Alec says after another moment has passed. “Maybe it wasn’t with magic, but you did stop her. You distracted her, and Madzie got to you. That was enough.”

“Tonight, perhaps,” Magnus mutters, the words bitter on his tongue. “But distraction isn’t enough. I’m not enough. Not anymore.”

“That isn’t true,” Alec says immediately, his voice fierce and sure. 

Magnus wishes he could believe him, wishes his magic was still strumming through his veins, wishes he was still strong enough to protect the people he loves.  _ I’m not the man you fell in love with anymore _ , he wants to yell. Gone is Magnus, the all-powerful High Warlock of Brooklyn capable of taking on princes of hell. Now he’s just broken and lost and  _ weak _ .

“Losing your magic doesn’t make you weak, you know,” Alec continues as if reading his mind, and Magnus turns to him in shock. “You’re still the strongest person I know.”

Magnus shakes his head, partly in disagreement and partly dumbfounded by the unadulterated way in which Alec Lightwood loves him. “It sure doesn’t feel like it,” he whispers.

Alec leans closer, bumping their shoulders together. “That’s because you aren’t used to this, yet, but I know you. You once told me I’d blow up the very ground to make things right, and maybe that’s true, but I think it’s more true for you.”

Magnus makes a noise of protest, not trusting his own voice when his throat feels tight and raw.

“You’ll figure this out, and I’ll be right there with you.” Alec’s hand tightens around his and it’s the safest Magnus has felt since he returned from Edom, but he can’t bring himself to squeeze back. Instead, he lets himself lean closer, his head dropping on Alec’s shoulder.

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who I am anymore.” The confession is quiet and he feels Alec tense slightly before he presses a kiss into Magnus’s hair.

“Everyone gets lost sometimes. It doesn’t make you weak,” Alec says softly.

“What does it make me then?” Again, his words have come out harsher than he intended, a snap that Alec doesn’t deserve. Again, Alec doesn’t flinch. He slides his hand from Magnus’s and winds it around his back instead, his hand warm against Magnus’s tense muscles.

“Human,” he answers simply. “You always have been, you just aren’t used to relying on that part of you.”

Magnus knows it’s true, knows on some level this should make him feel better, knows that somehow, someday, he’ll be used to it and mostly okay. But right now, he doesn’t know what to feel. “I don’t know how to be anything other than who I was, Alexander.” The words are a choked whisper. He swallows, tastes salt as a teardrop reaches his lips.  _ Oh _ , he thinks, as he wipes a hand roughly across his cheek and feels the tear tracks there.

Alec laughs, but the sound is humorless. Pained, almost. The knife already embedded in Magnus’s heart twists. “You’re still that person. You’re still  _ you _ .”

“But—”

“Your magic is gone, but you are still Magnus Bane.” Alec’s voice is hard, but not angry, like he’s trying to block out any doubt in Magnus’s mind, any argument.

“I don’t know who that is without magic,” Magnus whispers anyways because he needs Alec to understand, needs to understand himself.

Alec shifts away from him, turning Magnus’s gaze towards him with a hand cupped to his cheek. “I know him. He’s brave and self-sacrificing if it means he can protect the people he loves, regardless of the consequences.” His thumb brushes along Magnus’s cheek, and Magnus feels a streak of wet following in its wake. “He’s stronger than anyone I’ve ever met. He’s lived through centuries of love and heartbreak, pain and betrayal, and yet he still opened his heart up—to a Shadowhunter, of all people, even though he had every reason not to trust me with his heart.”

“Alexander—” Magnus starts, his throat tight and choking. He swallows.

“He’s caring and thoughtful and so full of love—for me, for Madzie, for every single one of your friends.” Alec leans closer, presses a kiss to Magnus’s tearstained cheek. “And he’s  _ smart _ , so incredibly smart and I could listen to him talk about absolutely anything for the rest of my life. He’s—”

“Alexander, please,” Magnus interrupts. He’s not sure he quite believes Alec’s words, but his heart wants to, so badly. Between the tightness in his throat and chest, Magnus doesn’t know how he’s still breathing.  _ No, that’s not true _ , he thinks. Breathing always comes just a bit easier when he’s looking at Alexander. “Thank you, but I…” he trails off. The rest of the sentence echoes in his mind, like it’s bouncing off the walls in his head:   _ I want to believe you, but I can’t, not yet. _

Alec seems to hear them, too. He shrugs, a small, teasing smile on his lips, but his eyes still serious. “Don’t take my word for it,” he says softly. “You’ll find out for yourself.”

His sureness is a balm, even if Magnus can’t share it himself. It’s almost religious, Alec’s belief in him. Magnus has never been one for prayer, but without thinking he’s sending a silent prayer to the gods above that he might even be an ounce of the man Alec believes him to be, that he might be worthy of Alec’s love.

“How?” Magnus asks.

Alec’s eyes light up, just a bit. Magnus recognizes the gleam:  the one he gets when faced with a challenge. “We have a rogue warlock to catch,” he says. “And you know more about Iris and where she might go than any of the rest of us.” Alec stands, stretching a hand down to Magnus. “Come on.”

Magnus stares up at him, his eyes wide and still full of tears, but drying.  _ I can still do this _ , he thinks. He hopes.

He takes Alec’s hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated 💖  
> Find me on Tumblr and Twitter @banesapothecary!


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